The Walking Dead - Colorado
by JaredBrown
Summary: This story focuses on completely original characters at the same time and same universe as Rick Grimes's story in Georgia but in Colorado. Nathaniel Grayson is a science teacher at a high school in Boulder, Colorado. He is visiting his parents with his wife and son when the apocalypse begins. The story follows Nathaniel and other survivors lives post-apocalypse. Drama ensues.


**_*Author's Note: Please leave feedback. It helps me tremendously. **

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Nathaniel Grayson pulled into the narrow driveway of his parents' house. The loose gravel crunched under the tires, and he pulled the emergency brake on the driveway hill to prevent it from rolling backwards. His wife, Miranda, helped his three year old son out from the backseat.

"Come on, Eric." She offered, gently, to her son.

Eric obliged to his mother's words and got out of the car. She picked him up and carried him into the two story suburban house, where she was met with a warm greeting from her mother-in-law.

"So good to see you!" Jenny Grayson smiled at her beautiful daughter-in-law and her grandson.

"You too, mom." Miranda said, warmly.

"Grandma!" Exclaimed the young child, who was now fighting to get out of his mother's arms.

"Good to see you son." Jack Grayson said, appearing behind his wife.

"Thanks for having us." Nathaniel replied.

"Dad grilled some chicken and I made mashed potatoes and corn." Jenny said, looking at Nathaniel.

"Yay! I love mashed potatoes!" Eric exclaimed while running around the living room.

"He has so much energy, that one," Jack laughed, "Just like his father."

The family moved into the dining room where table was already set with silverware, plates of food and glasses of milk.

"Let me just wash up." Nathaniel said.

He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. As he washed his hands, his eyes made contact with his reflection in the mirror above the sink. His gray eyes were weary. His black hair, while short, was untidy. His nose was slightly larger than the average, but he was a handsome man. His visage looked drained and lethargic. He hadn't slept much lately and it showed. His gaze in the mirror was focused; the whole world seemed to slow down. His concentration, staring, pierced into the eyes of the reflection in an unbroken stare. The focus was so strong that he had tunnel vision, and there was a soft ringing in his ears that seemed to grow louder in pitch.

Bang! A loud knock ripped him from this state, suddenly being jerked into reality.

"Everything okay in there?" His mother called.

"Yeah. Just washing up." He retorted.

He opened the door and joined the family at the table. As he took his seat, his father said, "And now we say grace."

"Why don't you do the honors, dear?" Jenny asked Jack.

"Certainly. 'Dear Lord, we thank you for this masterfully grilled..." Eric laughed at his grandfather's exaggeration, "food and delicious sides that we are about to receive. We thank you for bringing us here together as a family on this fine night. We also wish to thank you for Nathan's pay raise that came at a much needed time. In Jesus name, amen" He finished.

"Amen" The rest of the table, including Eric, repeated in unison.

Nathaniel looked at his food. He wasn't hungry, but he ate a bite of chicken simply because everyone else was enjoying their meals. The dinner conversation was fuzzy and indistinct chatter to Nathaniel, who remained silent.

Shortly after everyone except Nathaniel had finished eating, the distinct sound of shattering glass interrupted Miranda's sentence and cut her short.

"What the hell?" Jack muttered.

"Dad! Watch your language in front of Eric!" Miranda hissed.

"Sorry. Damn kids probably broke a window playing baseball." Jack said under his breath.

"Dad!" Miranda persisted.

"It's getting dark. Isn't it a little late for baseball?" Nathaniel asked, now curious as to what made the sound that protruded from the basement.

"You're right. Stay here. I'll go have a look." Jack told Nathaniel.

Jack Grayson was a large, but somewhat elderly man who kept in shape. He walked into the back room and disappeared through the basement door. The sounds of footsteps descending stairs echoed throughout the now silent household.

"Probably just a possum or something. They've been getting at my tomatoes and they're becoming a real problem." Jenny informed.

"I don't think a possum can break through glass." Nathaniel said, with a certain amount of doubt.

"ARGHHH!" The scream of Nathaniel's father broke the silence in the air before Jenny could reply. The scream was much louder than the sound of shattering glass that preceded it.

"What was that?!" Jenny burst out.

"Mom, shh!" Nathaniel urged.

"I have to help him! He probably just fell down the stairs." She whispered back.

"What if somebody is down there?" Miranda asked desperately.

"Oh, I don't think anyone would break into our humble home. We don't have anything of real value and this is a safe neighborhood. We know almost everyone." She maintained, but quietly.

"I don't think you should go down there." Nathaniel warned.

"Oh nonsense." Jenny replied and with that she hurried down the stairs.

"Jack? Jack dear?" Her calls were audible even upstairs.

A few moments passed. The silence was horrifying for Miranda. Eric seemed oblivious as to what was going on and was still stuffing his face with food, now eating off of Nathaniel's plate. Nathaniel was calm, but adrenaline shot through his veins with each heartbeat, which he could feel in the silence that surrounded them.

A few seconds later, Jenny's voice rang out in a terrified scream.

"What happened?" Miranda gasped, now extremely afraid.

"I don't know... Get Eric out of here and call 911. I'll get dad's rifle and check out the basement." Nathaniel ordered.

Miranda opened her mouth to protest, but Nathaniel was already in action. He ran to his parents' room and found the rifle that his dad used for hunting in his closet. He grabbed it and loaded it with bullets that were also in the closet. He made sure that the safety was off and that a bullet was in the chamber. Immediately after, he rushed to the stairs and headed into the basement, which now seemed more like a dungeon, below.

The light in the basement was dim. He walked around, gun ready to fire, looking for any sign of movement. He saw the window that had been broken and there was blood on the floor. Fear flooded into Nathaniel's body. He was shaking with terror of what might be in the darkness around him.

"If somebody's down here, come out. I have a gun and I _**will**_ shoot!"

He heard a moaning voice behind him. He turned around, horrified, and saw something his eyes did not believe at first. A man, whose face was completely mutilated, was the source of the hissing. The smell was awful. He still had not processed his the messages his eye were sending his brain. It completely rejected the idea that a corpse was walking toward him.

"What the f***?!" He cried out, and shot the rotting body in a panic. The bullet hit the decaying torso and passed through the creature. It was unfazed and kept moving forward. He shot again, aiming for the head, and this time the body fell to the concrete floor.

"What the f***? What the f***?" He repeated.

He ran up the stairs. He didn't want to believe what just happened. Did he just kill... a zombie? He pondered to himself as ran outside in a panic.

"NATHANIEL!" Miranda screamed through tears as another one of whatever was in the basement bit her.

"MIRANDA!" He screamed as a second creature appeared.

Nathaniel looked on in terror as his wife fell to the ground. He aimed the rifle and shot the first one directly in the head. The second one abandoned his wife and advanced toward him. He shot it in the head before it could draw any nearer and it too collapsed.

He threw aside the rifle and ran over to his wife, who was now unconscious. Her neck was bloodied and partially torn open. Pain welled deep within him.

"Honey, please get up. Please be okay. SOMEBODY HELP!" He screamed.

There was no hope for her. He knew that the instant he saw the severity of the wound, but fought that thought with all his brain's capacity.

"Please God, be a dream. Please, God. Please." He begged, and cried.

"Eric!" He yelled, "Eric?! Come to daddy! Eric?"

His eyes darted around until they meet their target. He saw his son laying face down in the grass and bleeding. He sprinted over through the rough grass to him and picked him up gently. He pleaded for his son to wake up, but he knew it was no good. His son was bleeding profusely from an open wound on his arm. He knew that Eric was losing too much blood, but he couldn't stop the bleeding. Frantically, he ran inside looking for anything that might stop the flow of blood from his son's unconscious body.

He heard moaning coming from the dining room before he saw it. His father was standing ten feet in front of him... but his appearance was different. The once handsome man was now a discolored, slobbering monster. Nathaniel saw that his father had became one of them. His father saw him and drew closer. Nathaniel realized that he had nothing to stop his father from attacking him, but he pleaded with his father to stop moving closer.  
The attempt was futile; however, and Nathaniel ran back outside. He had no idea what was going on, but he picked up the rifle and desperately headed into his car. As he started the car, he pulled out his cell phone to dial 911.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"My wife and son are hurt! I need help!"

"Sir, please try to remain calm. How badly are your wife and son hurt?"

"Very badly! They're bleeding and -"  
"How were they hurt? We're dispatching an ambulance now. Please tell me what happened."

"I don't know. I know it sounds crazy but they were bitten by walking dead people!"

"Zombies? Sir, is this a prank call? 911 is an emergency service that should only be used in case of an _actual_ emergency. It's a federal crime to use 911 as anything..."

"***DAMN IT, NO! This is not a f***ing prank call! I just witnessed my wife and my son be killed by motherf***ing zombies!" He screamed in rage, hysteria, confusion and helplessness somehow bound into one horrible emotion.

"Sir, we're suddenly getting a lot of incoming calls. I don't have time for your pranks."

"NO!" He screamed into the phone. The line clicked and the phone call ended.

"What the f***... what the f***..." He repeated to himself.

Suddenly, a pounding noise broke his distraught mind and forced him once again into reality, much like in the bathroom just an hour ago. He jerked his head to see the source. His wife's face was pressed to the glass. Blood and flesh spilled out of her neck onto the concrete driveway below. Her face, too, was colorless. She hissed at him. She scratched at the windows with her fingernails. Instinctively, he released the emergency break, and the car rolled down the hill. She stalked the car like a tiger with eyes on its prey. He managed to put the car into drive and screech away.

Nathaniel was driving much faster than the law permitted, but that was the least of his concerns. He saw another of the creatures walking aimlessly through his rearview mirror. He drove faster and faster. In his haste, he realized he had no idea where he was headed. Many other cars were driving along with drivers who were going equally as fast and frantic as Nathaniel.

A high pitched beep alerted Nathaniel that he was low on fuel.

"Shit!" He screamed in anger, fear, and frustration.

It was then that Nathaniel's destination became perfectly clear to him...

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To be continued...

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**_*Author's Note: Please leave feedback. It helps me tremendously. **


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